First Winter Here MAG

September 17, 2009

(after “Gazing North” by Wang An-Shih)
Eyes purple-shadowed, I dream to see my far-off mountains
but I cannot walk from here: ice-worn hills, sleet falling.

Pity these poems all those black spider words, and why read them?
It's freezing. Bare branches reach to scar the clouds.

The author's comments:
I love the stark elegance of classical Chinese poetry. This is one of my first attempts to mimic that style, so please tell me what you think of it.

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